


To Come Home

by Vikkikate89



Series: To Be [2]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-02 03:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vikkikate89/pseuds/Vikkikate89
Summary: It's been five years since they parted ways. But now Manson finally has the time to come out and see her again. Amanda may have changed a bit over the years, but she is still very much the woman he remembers her to be. And he wants to be a part of her story again.





	1. On a Warm Night

The door standing in front of him was almost daunting. He read, then re-read the number several times over, wanting to be sure he had the right place. It had been so long, he did not think he could handle the frustration of getting the address wrong.

Five years. Five years since the last time he had seen her dancing in his audience. Five years since he said goodbye to her at the airport. Five years since the last time he had seen her face to face.

Neither of them meant for so much time to have gone by. But life had gotten in the way for both of them. His work as a musician was always demanding and devoured what little of a social life he could afford, and she had been rebuilding her life so she could make herself into the person she wanted to be. When he first heard she had moved back to Western New York, he had feared her parents had guilted her into it. Now as he stood on her door, he wondered what would be waiting on the other side. How much she would have changed, if she had changed.

Biting the bullet, he reached up and knocked, his heart beating in excitement when the sounds of footsteps followed almost immediately after. The deadbolt turned with a loud chunk, the chain dragged out of place, and the knob turned just barely before the door itself flew open to a pair of excited eyes and a bright smile he had missed.

“Oh my god, you made it!” Amanda cried, opening her arms and pulling Manson into a warm hug. He sighed happily as his arms snaked around her, hugging her firmly against his form. She looked different, but not so different. As she stepped out of his embrace, he took note of the growing collection of tattoos on her arms, an eyebrow and a lip piercing, and the distinct lack of cigarette stench on her clothes. She looked a little curvier than he remembered, but that did not matter. Her smile was the same and her voice was just what he remembered.

“Come in! Come in!” she urged, stepping aside to let him enter before closing and locking the door behind him. When she turned around to face him again, he took hold of her and pulled her into another hug, almost as if he needed to feel her again to reassure himself it was all real.

“Christ, it’s been way too long,” he sighed into her hair with a smile and she hummed in agreement, rubbing his back as she relaxed in his embrace. “You look well,” he noted when he finally released her. “I see you’ve added to your canvas.” He nodded pointedly to her tattooed arms, and she smiled, extending them a bit for him to see.

“Yeah well, no one warned me it was so addictive,” she chuckled. “Though it’s been a few years since the last one. Haven’t been in a position to justify them financially, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, so that’s why you haven’t been to one of my shows in so long,” he jested.

“Have you seen your ticket prices?” she scoffed. “And I thought it was bad back when we first met. I’ll end up homeless again at the rate they’re skyrocketing.” Before he could say anything, she waved the subject off. “Okay, no more money talk, Christ! It’s been forever, and I’m so excited you’re here! Are you hungry? Do you want some coffee or tea?”

“Actually, I’m starving,” he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. “Kinda made a beeline here from the airport and airline food is ass…”

“Yeah, I remember,” she chuckled, turning to head into her kitchen. “Go make yourself comfortable. I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge I can heat up. Want some coffee?”

“Sounds good,” he called back to her, already having wandered off to scope out her apartment. As far as the size was concerned, it was about what he expected. Small, but not cramped. There seemed to be just the right amount of space for everything she had used to furnish/decorate it, and it had a rather cozy feel. He stepped through the living room and into a narrow hall that led to a bathroom and two other doors. The first was open, and peaking in, he could tell it was her bedroom, unable to help smirking at its messy state. The other door was at the very end of the hall and closed. Deciding not to push the boundaries just yet, he headed back to the kitchen to find Amanda setting up two plates and two mugs on the table in the dining nook.

“This a two bedroom?” he asked her, resting against a counter where he could talk but be out of her way at the same time.

“Yeah,” she answered, checking on a small casserole dish in her microwave. She selected another time and pressed the start button to give it another pass. “The one that’s open is my room,” she continued.

“I gathered that,” he replied, giving her a knowing look. “You know, laundry baskets do exist.”

“Is that what those were for? Because I’ve just been keeping my origami collection in there,” she quipped with a smirk.

“So, does that mean you have a roommate?” He had not thought to ask her that in advance when he first got back in touch with her to plan their reunion. Not that he minded if there was another person living there, but he wanted to know if he was about to deal with a star-struck or disgusted person. Everyone reacted either way when they first met him and there was almost never any in between.

“I do,” she answered, propping herself against the opposite counter while waiting for the coffee maker and the microwave to finish up. “She’s not here tonight though, so it’s just us.”

“How is that? Living with a roommate, I mean? I’d be frustrated if I still needed one,” he admitted. She smiled to herself and gave a shrug.

“There are moments when I want to pull my own hair out, I won’t lie.” The microwave dinged, and after testing whatever was inside, she grabbed a pair of pot holders and pulled the dish out, setting it on the table. The smells of chicken, cheese, and a mixture of spices filled his nostrils and he felt his mouth start to water though he did not recognize what she was serving.

“Whatever that is, it smells fucking amazing,” he said, watching as she scooped up a healthy serving for the both of them.

“It’s called chicken cortez,” she answered. “It’s like a Mexican based casserole. There’s chicken, corn tortillas, a ton of cheese, salsa, and a bunch of other stuff all mixed together. My grandma turned me on to this years ago and it’s been a favorite.” He grinned, pulling up a chair, and she returned to the fridge while he sat down. “Want something to drink, other than coffee? That stuff’s got a bite to it.”

“Beer, if you’ve got it,” he answered.

“ _If I’ve got it…_ ” she snorted. “Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with?” He heard her crack open two bottles, then she returned to the table, placing his drink in front of him while settling into her own chair. “Have as much as you want,” she added, nodding to the casserole dish.

“You’re gonna regret offering that,” he replied with an amused grin. “So when did you get so domestic?”

“About… four years ago at least,” she answered, surprising him with such a literal answer. “Though, as you could tell from the state of my room, it only extends so far.” She watched the singer take a mouthful off his plate, and after a few experimental chews, he gave a groan and forked up a bigger mouthful.

“Holy shit, this is good.”

“Thank you,” she beamed, digging into her own plate.

“So, I’ve got to ask, what brought you back out here?” he asked her after a few more bites. “Did you finally make amends with your parents?”

During the first year after they had parted ways, he was calling her or receiving calls from her several times a week. Those conversations had offered a more clarifying window into just how complicated Amanda’s relationship with her parents really was. The little he had actually seen when they had tracked her down in New Orleans, five years ago, had not been enough for him to form a full opinion. But those phone calls gave him more to contend with. It became clear that once they were certain their daughter was willing to remain in touch with them, it did not take long for them to slip back into their old methods of guilting her. Thankfully, she mostly called to joke about it and laugh it off with him. But there were nights when he could tell she was in tears because something had gotten to her. Hearing she had moved back to live closer to them had come as a surprise to him, but it was her life, and he had been a distant part of it for almost two years by that point.

“It was just time,” she answered vaguely, rising to check the coffee pot. “Besides, I was sick of living in the city. Don’t get me wrong, Denver’s a great place, but the traffic’s enough to send you to an early grave. Thankfully, this place is close to Rochester, and there’s a nice village just down the road so it’s less busy than the city without being in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“So is this just another temporary holding place until you uproot yourself and start all over again?” he joked, making her giggle as she poured them coffee.

“No, smartass. I plan to stay in this area for a good long time. I really love it here and it’s been good on me. I’m managing a used bookstore in the village and the people here are very warm and friendly. I plan to set roots here. Cream and sugar?”

“Just black for me,” he answered, and she set the steaming mug in front of him.

“All I have is flavored, sorry,” she apologized as she added milk and sugar to her mug before returning to the table. “That’s pumpkin spice.”

He took a deep sniff from his mug and gave a nod of approval. “Just wouldn’t be the season without it.”

“Tell me about it. There’s a bakery next to where I work, and this time of year is torture because there’s pumpkin spice everything coming out of those ovens 24/7 and the smell always fills my store. I swear I give them half my paycheck every week.” She gave him a soft smile, then returned her attention to her food, scooping up another bite.

“So…” she began, pausing to swallow what was in her mouth. “I’m afraid I’ve fallen… way way out of the loop. Are you still with… fuck what was her name… Lindsay… something? That photographer?”

“Yes, Lindsay Something, that was her,” he teased her, earning a playful smack on his arm. “And yes, you are way fucking out of the loop because that ended a long time ago.”

“In my defense, I could only keep tabs on so much before I felt like I was being a stalker,” she confessed. “It wasn’t another one of those crash-and-burn breakups, was it?”

“No, completely amicable. We’re still good friends,” he assured her.

“Oh good. That’s good. Are you dating at all then?” At this he gave her a knowing look and she looked at him completely innocently. “What?”

“You’re just trying to find out if I’m single,” he chuckled.

“Please, I have a boyfriend,” she scoffed.

“Do you?” She caught his smile faltering and grinned mischievously, pointing her empty fork at him.

“Gotcha.”

He gave her a smirk and cleared off his plate, reaching to the dish on the table to a second helping. She may have changed a little since the last time he had seen her, but the way they were able to slip so easily into conversation made it feel like it had not really been that long at all. In fact, he felt at home with her and even a bit nostalgic.

They finished eating, Amanda dropping their plates in the sink to wash later, and after filling up their mugs with a second cup of coffee, the two of them took seats on her couch. He took note of the Halloween decorations she had already set up. Skulls, a witch hanging on one of the walls, bat decals in some of the windows, fake flickering candles on her entertainment center, even an autumn themed garland wrapped around the border of her bay window in the dining nook. She turned off a few of the lights, letting the fake candles do most of the illuminating, and the atmosphere turned all the more warm, causing him to settle even more comfortably into her couch. She joined him, cross legged on the other end, her body turned to fully face him as she cradled her mug in her hands.

“You really look well,” he commented with a smile. And he meant it. He had been nervous as to how she would be after their time apart, but to see she still seemed to carry the same spirit and encouragement she had back when they parted ways made him happy.

“Thanks,” she replied. “So do you, by the way. You look fantastic, actually.”

He suspected that was a roundabout way of saying she had noticed the weight he lost, but he decided not to poke fun at her about it. He would never be the skinny “Worm Boy” again that he was in the 90’s, but even he had to admit he was looking healthier than he had a few years ago. Not that she had seemed to mind his weight back when they first met. In fact, he realized in that moment she had never once commented on it.

“Thank you,” he stated with a grin.

“I’m actually surprised you’re not on tour this fall,” she added, looking at him inquiringly as she sipped at her coffee.

“There’s one planned for the new year, but I wanted to take some time off. I’ve got some projects I’m working on, both in acting and with my music, and having less on my plate seems to be the better choice right now.”

She nodded in understanding. “I honestly don’t know how you were able to juggle so much for so long. It would have driven me insane.”

“Who’s to say it didn’t drive me insane?” he remarked, making her laugh.

“Remember fight club?” she asked him with a grin.

“I remember nearly getting my eye socket shattered, yes. And you busted open your lip pretty good.”

“God that was so much fun,” she sighed. “I miss doing crazy things.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Work, for one. Being a responsible adult…”

“Bah!” He waved her off as she snickered. “That’s no excuse.”

“Maybe not for you,” she replied with a shrug. “That’s not to say my life isn’t good now. It is. It really is. I just… miss it sometimes.”

“We’ll always have the train heist,” he sighed and they shared a laugh. He patted down his pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, pausing when he noticed her sitting upright.

“You’re gonna have to do that outside,” she said softly. “My landlord’s kinda strict about it.”

“Ah… that would explain the lack of smell,” he chuckled.

“Actually I quit a while ago,” she replied, rising to her feet. “I’ll join you, though. There’s a patio attached to my room. I’ll show you.” They carried their mugs and she helped him navigate through the messy labyrinth that was her bedroom to a sliding glass door on the other side of the room. Once they were outside, she flipped on the porch light and propped herself against the handrail while he lit up.

“You really quit?” he asked as he let out his first puff. “That wasn’t your parents, was it?”

“Hah, no.” She shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. “Personal choice. Not to say they weren’t ecstatic about it but…” She let her voice wander off as her lips curved in a half smile. “Besides, it was becoming too expensive of a habit for me to justify.”

“No shit. I can’t believe how much they hike up the prices every year,” he grumbled.

“At least you can afford it.”

He felt a little guilty, having heard the horror stories of how hard it was to quit, but the smell did not seem to bother her, so he continued to smoke in front of her. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said after a few moments of peaceful silence. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he replied with a warm smile. “Guess I take some of the blame for us losing touch.”

“You’re an insanely busy guy, I completely get it. I’m just glad you’re here now. That we’re actually hanging out and talking like we used to. How long do I get you for anyways?”

“I’m in town for the weekend,” he answered, flicking the ashes from his cigarette. “With no prior engagements, mind you. I really came out here just to spend time with you. So if you’re really missing crazy… I might be able to arrange something.”

“Mmmm… that is very tempting. We’ll have to see.” He caught the flicker in her eyes and knew she was already coming up with ideas. “Does that mean you’re crashing with me for the weekend? Because you are more than welcome to.”

“I got a hotel reservation,” he chuckled. “Besides, not sure your roommate would appreciate that.”

“She won’t care,” Amanda replied with a shake of her head. “And what hotel? There’s nothing decent in town.”

“It’s about a twenty minute drive away,” he admitted.

“Fuck that, just crash here. We’re no five-star hotel, but it’ll save you having to drive back and forth all weekend.”

He considered her offer. Her apartment may have been quaint, but he was already feeling at home inside. And being around her again had put him in a very good mood. “Your roommate really won’t mind?” he asked again.

“Trust me, she loves meeting new people,” she assured him.

“Guess I can’t say no to that then,” he answered, smiling as his answer made her glow.

“Great! Let’s get your suitcase inside.”


	2. The Roommate

Amanda locked the door to her apartment as Manson wandered forward, unsure of where to set his suitcase. He settled for the living room for the time being, knowing there was a very real possibility he was simply crashing on her couch. Not that he would complain. He was still happy with his decision to stay with her. When he turned to face her, she was already stepping up to him with a half smile on her face. Feeling the urge once again, he closed in on her, slipping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. When she relaxed in his arms and returned the hug, a contented sigh slipped from his lips.

“God, you smell so good,” she murmured, taking a deep sniff from his long jacket. “I forgot how good you always smelled.” He ran his fingers through her hair and she looked up at him with a peaceful smile. “I’m so glad you hit me up when you did. I was actually starting to think about you a lot recently.”

“Oh?” he inquired, taking note of how she kept her arms around him. He did not mind it at all.

“Mmhmm… Just remembering all the fun stuff we did on tour.”

Had she always fit this perfectly against him? He wondered at the thought briefly as he stroked her hair again, watching her tilt her head into his touch. Fuck, he had missed her.

“We should do some more fun stuff while I’m in the area,” he replied. “Maybe start a new list… I’m sure you can come up with some interesting ideas. There’s still Ireland…”

She frowned slightly. “Ireland’s a bit out of the realm of possibility for me right now,” she sighed.

“What kind of thinking is that?” he chided. She gave a soft chuckle.

“I’ll explain later. Right now, I’m just happy to have you in my living room.”

Her fingers were rubbing at his back, massaging at his muscles through his clothing, and he watched her eyes, hoping to god he was reading her correctly. To test the waters, he brought his hand to caress her cheek and watched her response very carefully. Her eyes softened and he could feel her relax even more in his arms. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek and rested his forehead against hers.

“Are you really single?” he asked at last to remove the final excuse keeping him from kissing her right then and there.

“Absolutely,” she murmured.

“Oh thank fuck…”

His lips crashed down on hers and she inhaled sharply as he cupped her face. His tongue demanded entrance which she gladly granted him, making him groan when he was met with her own. A thought dawned on him then, at the worst possible moment, and with a grunt, he broke the kiss, looking at her in dismay.

“Fuck… I didn’t bring any… I don’t have any…” Every time he tried to complete the sentence, it only occurred to him further that it had only been a kiss. That maybe he was being too presumptuous to bring up the fact that he had failed to pack any condoms.

She smirked, clearly knowing exactly what he was trying to say. “Ten steps ahead of you,” she whispered. “Got an IUD. My womb is Fort Knox.”

He looked at her stunned for a moment, but before he could say more, she was already closing in on him again, passionately urging him to continue what he had started.

They stumbled into her bedroom, Amanda breaking away from him to close the blinds on the door to the patio. As she tugged at the cord, he slipped behind her, unfastening the button on her jeans and slipping his hand inside to feel the soft material of her panties. She groaned, drawing the blinds closed so fast they clattered together, and his mouth moved to her neck, nibbling and kissing her until he felt her skin growing hot to the touch.

“To.. to be clear…” she gasped, reaching her hand to brace herself against the wall. His fingers traced out the edges of her folds, then pressed between them until he found the swollen nub he was looking for, enjoying how difficult it was becoming for her to speak. “This is… mmmmm God!... This is… just sex… Oh fuck what are you doing to me?” Her head dropped forward and he bit down on the back of her neck, making her release something of a growl. Her nails were digging into the wall and he grinned at the sight, feeling as though he were awakening a feral animal.

“Just sex,” he agreed, bringing his tongue to lave over her now tender skin. He began to tug down her jeans, bringing her panties down with them until both came to rest partway down her thighs. He groped her ass with one hand while the other resumed its assault on her nethers, stepping forward to press the growing bulge in his trowsers against her. “Remember that?” he growled in her ear, grinding himself against her. He leaned over, bending his neck around to bite at her earlobe and her nails scratched against the wall in front of her. The hand that held her ass glided around to slip under her shirt and he cupped her breast, his fingers giving her taut nipple a teasing pinch.

“Maybe I should just make you come right here,” he purred threateningly. “I don’t think it would take much… Feels like you haven’t been thoroughly fucked in a long time…”

“I swear to god…” she groaned, her hips rolling into his hand while simultaneously rubbing up against his crotch, bringing him to moan with desire. “If you don’t start stripping down right now…”

He cackled lightly at her tone and released her, working off his jacket and shirt while she shimmied out of her pants in a hurry. Within seconds, their clothes lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, and he was pinning her down to the bed, knocking pillows out of their way while capturing her lips in a heated kiss. He felt her nails rake down his back and her hips buck impatiently into his. His fingers teased lightly at her sex, only growing more excited when he felt just how wet she already was. It really had been a while, he realized. Something about that made him feel a moment of pride.

He drew back, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder, then drove into her with a lust filled groan. “Fuck…” he gasped. “How are you so fucking tight…” She grinned at him, but it only took a few harsh thrusts to wipe it from her face and make her jaw drop open in pleasure instead. He braced himself with one arm, beginning a rough and needy pace while his other hand groped at her breast, his thumb rolling over her nipple to make her devolve into a string of vulgarity. He had forgotten how beautiful she looked when she was underneath him.

Each thrust of his hips drove her deeper into the bed. Her nails tore at his back until he was certain she had drawn blood, but he did not care. The burning sensation was pure ecstasy and it made him hiss in delight. He bit down on her neck, sucking at her skin hard enough to bruise her, then did it again as her body responded so sweetly to the pain.

His orgasm was rapidly building, but he strained to hold it back, wanting to bring her there first. His hand left her breast and reached down to rub at her aching clit, every swirl making her legs twitch and her walls clench around him. He growled in her ear, his breathing growing more ragged by the second, and just as he felt he could hold back no more, her spine arched up off the mattress and she let out a cry as her body came crashing into its climax. He followed almost immediately after her, feeling himself empty into her hot pulsing sex, and he called out her name with a sharp hiss.

They collapsed together on the mattress, breathless and sweaty. Manson brushed a damp lock of black hair from his forehead, staring up at the ceiling in amazement while his hand rested over his pounding heart. Amanda’s forearm draped unceremoniously over her forehead and her eyes fluttered shut as she fought to catch her breath. “Fuck…” she whispered in a rasp. “Was it always that good?”

“Mmmff…” was all he could manage to say, causing her to snicker.

The morning came far too soon. He woke to the sound of her alarm going off and Amanda shifted quickly to turn it off with a groan. He did not move, expecting her to settle back in against him, but when he felt the sheets draw back, he twisted around enough to watch her naked form slip out of the bed. “Got somewhere to be?” he murmured groggily. She stretched with a loud yawn, then turned to him with a sleepy smile, leaning over to kiss his temple.

“I need a shower,” she whispered. “And I need to get breakfast started. Feel free to sleep in as long as you like.”

He reached up, taking hold of her wrist. “Mmmm… all that can wait. Get back in here with me…” he whined.

“I really can’t,” she giggled, bringing his hand to her lips. “Just do me a favor and make sure you have some clothes on when you come back out. Roommate’s gonna be home soon.”

“Prude…” he grumbled and she flipped him off, pulling on her bathrobe and grabbing a fresh change of clothes before leaving him to drift back off to sleep.

An hour passed when he heard the sounds of the door buzzer going off as well as Amanda calling over the intercom, “I’ll buzz you up!” He shifted with a sigh, having a suspicion the apartment was about to stop being quiet, so he rose to his feet, stumbling to the door to use the bathroom. He had barely set foot in the hall when he heard a hiss come from the other end and felt Amanda leap forward to push him back to her room.

“Clothes!” she whispered loudly. “Get some fucking clothes on!”

“My suitcase is still in the living room,” he protested.

“Just get in there! I’ll get it to you.” She yanked the door shut on him and after a few scrambling sounds, she returned, opening the door just enough to drop his suitcase on the other side and immediately close it again.

“Hey!” she heard Amanda call in greeting. “Look who it is!” There came a high pitched squeal in response, and Manson froze from bending down to grab his bag.

Was that a child?

Perhaps her roommate had a kid, he reasoned, quickly pulling out a change of clothes and dressing himself. He could only imagine the ridicule Amanda would have received on his behalf if they had come inside to find him standing there in his birthday suit. Once he was significantly more presentable, he resumed his path to the bathroom, not looking down the hall to see her new guests as his bladder did not currently have the patience for greetings.

“That your house guest?” asked a man’s voice from outside. His tone was suggestive and Manson cocked an eyebrow.

“He just woke up so give him some space,” he heard Amanda reply. “He’s like me first thing in the morning.”

“Hmmm… yeah that sounds familiar…” The man’s tone indicated he was speaking of something else in the room, and the response that followed was another happy squeal from the child.

“I got some blueberry waffles for you,” Amanda sing-songed. “You hungry?”

“Oh yes! I love blueberry waffles!” answered the child.

“Okay, let’s roll up those sleeves so we don’t get syrup everywhere…”

The singer finished up, washing his hands and checking himself in the mirror. His hair was standing in every unruly direction, and he did the best he could to smooth it back down before venturing out to greet the newcomers to the apartment.

The first face to greet him was the unfamiliar man, who looked at him with an excited smile of recognition. “If I didn’t know about it from the tabloids a few years ago, I would have sworn Amanda was lying,” he chuckled, approaching Manson with his hand extended to him. “My name’s Craig. I’ve been a fan of yours since I was seven.”

At first glance, Manson was able to assume Craig was right around Amanda’s age. He was well built and muscular, and was sporting a shaved head which made the singer suspect he had likely served some time in the military. “Marilyn Manson,” he greeted in return with a smile.

“It’s a real honor to meet you,” Craig replied, giving his hand a firm shake. “Amanda’s told me so many stories.”

“Really? She never mentioned you,” he replied, wandering past the man to spot Amanda cutting up a plate of waffles into small bites. At the table sat a little blond haired girl with bright blue eyes. She was propped up in a booster seat he was positive had not been there the night before, and was clapping her hands in excitement while Amanda drizzled a small amount of syrup on her waffles.

“Here you go, kiddo,” Amanda said to her, placing the plate in front of her.

“Say thank you,” Craig instructed in a very paternal voice.

“Thank you, Mommy,” the little girl replied. She turned her head to the new face in the kitchen and regarded him with a curious innocence. “Who’s dat?”

Manson stared at the child in disbelief. Amanda’s eyes were staring right back at him in her small face, and the more he observed her, the more of Amanda’s features seemed to jump to the forefront.

Whether she was oblivious to his obvious shock or she was simply trying to keep her daughter oblivious to it, Amanda approached the child with a wistful smile and rested her hands on her shoulders. “That is Mommy’s friend, Mr. Manson. Can you say hi?”

The little girl waved at him. “Hi, Mistow Mansown,” she replied, then grabbed her fork and began to pick at her breakfast. Amanda’s eyes met his and she gave him a look that said, ‘I’ll explain later.’

“I got some coffee ready and I’m cooking up some bacon and eggs,” she informed him.

“Sounds great,” he said, deciding to oblige her and play along as he took a seat at the table.

“I wish I could stick around, but I’ve gotta take off,” Craig sighed. “It was great meeting you, Mr. Manson. Hopefully I’ll catch you again before you leave.”

“Nice to meet you too, Craig,” Manson replied, and after watching Amanda exchange a hug with Craig, he listened to the door shut and the room filled with an awkward silence.

“I got some blueberry waffles!” the little girl announced and Amanda giggled from her spot in front of the stove.

“Yes you do. Don’t make a mess.”

He was unsure what unsettled him more. The fact that she had managed to not mention this significant fact about her life the night before, or how easily she had slipped into a maternal mindset and he had failed to notice. All at once the little signs he had been ignoring crept up. The way she was so eager to feed him when he arrived, her offer to give him a more comfortable roof over his head during his stay, the fact that she had quit smoking…

How had he failed to connect the dots?

“So…” he said at last. “This is your roommate then, I’ll take it?”

“Sweetie, wanna tell Mr. Manson your name?” Amanda asked, preparing a plate of bacon.

“My name is Amy! Amy Yin!” she replied, seeming to be very proud of herself for knowing her own name.

“Amy Yin?” Manson repeated, giving Amanda a questioning look.

“Amilyn,” Amanda laughed. “But she tries to pronounce it as ‘Amy Lyn’ and her L’s still come out kinda funny.”

“Amilyn,” he repeated, trying to decide how it felt on his tongue. Amanda set a plate down in front of him as well as one for herself between him and her daughter. After setting out the food, and some silverware, she took her seat and gestured for him to help himself.

“I know you’ve got questions,” she said softly. “And I promise I’ll answer everything after she’s settled.”

Manson enjoyed his breakfast in relative silence, watching instead as Amanda interacted with the little girl who was still something of a foreign creature to him. The two talked in happy voices, Amanda asking about her daughter’s day, and Amilyn eagerly answering in her own broken, albeit adorable, English. When they were finished eating, Amanda got the toddler set up in her living room with a Sesame Street DVD, and she signalled Manson to follow her to her room.

Once the door was closed behind them, he gave her an expectant look.

“She’s not yours,” Amanda started, making him want to laugh.

“I kinda guessed that,” he replied.

“Craig and I met through a volunteer program I’d signed up for. It was this thing where you can volunteer to pick up soldiers from the airport and give them a ride home.”

So he had been right. Craig was in the military.

“Anyways,” Amanda continued. “We hit it off in the car, and it turned out he recognized me from when I was all over the news with you. So we stopped at a bar for a few drinks… and then at a hotel… Nine months later, out popped Amilyn.”

“And it never occurred to you to tell me this?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Christ, Amanda. I may not have been your lover but I was your friend. I would have wanted to be there for you.”

“And then the media would grab hold of that, speculate on you possibly being the father, it would turn into this whole scandal for you and meanwhile my daughter would have her face plastered all over the tabloids before she was old enough to even hold her head up on her own.”

Her words gave him pause. He had not been expecting that reasonable of an explanation.

“I was going to tell you,” she continued. “I just wanted enough time to pass until the media had forgotten about me. But then we started to lose touch and… ‘Hey, I’ve got a kid now!’ seemed a weird way to reconnect.”

“You should have done it anyway,” he lamented. “I mean fuck… you could have at least told me last night.”

“I know… I just…” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t have a good excuse for that. I wanted to be able to reconnect with you a bit first. I’m sorry that makes me selfish. I just wanted one more night where I was still that girl you called a crazy fucking bitch before I had to turn back into a mom.”

He sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “So… anything else you’re hiding while you’re at it?”

“This isn’t my natural hair color,” she answered, giving one of her crimson locks a twirl.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Amilyn got her blond hair from me.”

He wanted to be annoyed with her, but the way she was looking at him with a mixture of nervousness and attempted humor, he could not find the motivation. “And what about Craig? What’s the story there?”

He saw a trace of relief on her face and she moved to take a seat next to him. “Craig and I share custody,” she answered. “When he’s home, he usually gets her for the weekend.”

“So then you two aren’t…” he let his voice trail off suggestively.

“No,” she answered. “Unfortunately our chemistry ends at being physical. We do fine together as parents, but leave us alone in a room without Amilyn, one of us will be dead within five minutes.” He gave a snort and she shrugged in honesty. “I love the guy, but I hate his guts.”

“And the move?”

“Partially to be closer to family after I gave birth, but also to keep my pregnancy out of the spotlight. Everyone knew I was in Denver so I made the move nice and quiet. Craig, it turned out, had some family out here too so he was willing to relocate as soon as he was allowed to. They’ve got him stationed out here now.” She tilted her head a bit, trying to read his face. “Are you mad at me?”

He frowned and shook his head. “Disappointed maybe, but not mad. I just wish I’d known. I feel like I missed out on something big. But you said it yourself… we drifted apart.”

She offered him a sad smile. “Well… you know now. Better late than never, right?” When he did not respond, her smile faded and she gave him an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you last night. I really wanted to tell you a long time ago. I hope you’ll understand enough to forgive me.”

He gave a stiff nod, then looked at her. “I should tell you now, I have no idea what to do with kids.”

Amanda gave a laugh and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. She’s only here for a few hours. Craig had something he had to attend to, but once he’s back, he’s picking up Amilyn and she’ll be spending the rest of weekend with her daddy like she always does.” She continued to eye him nervously. “Are we okay?”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. “Yes. We’re okay.”


	3. To Fight and to Fuck To

Amanda gasped for air as she collapsed beside the panting singer, resting the back of her hand to her forehead as her heart pounded in her chest. “I think… you’re right…” Manson gasped, barely mustering the strength to turn his head to look at her. “It’s even better than it used to be.” Amanda gave a stifled laugh, shaking her head as he cracked a smile. “And that’s not to say we were bad at it in the first place.”

“You need to visit more often,” Amanda sighed, tugging the bedsheets up to cover their naked bodies. She rolled on to her side, propping her head up with her hand as her hair hung in a disheveled mess behind her shoulders. “I haven’t had regular sex since before Amilyn was born.” 

“You poor thing. No wonder you’re still so tight,” he sighed, unable to help the smile on his face.

The morning had been spent keeping little Amilyn occupied, playing games of hide and seek and watching some of her favorite shows with him. He could sadly name off each of the main characters of My Little Pony now, a part of him wondering how on earth Amanda was able to do it.

It was only a few hours before Craig returned to collect her, and the moment she was gone, Amanda practically tackled him in the hall. How much of that morning she had spent thinking about sex, he was not sure, but he was more than happy to oblige her. A woman has needs after all.

“You know,” Amanda murmured, reaching a hand across to trace over his chest. “If I had managed to grow some balls earlier into the tour, we probably would have fucked a lot sooner.”

“Mmmm…” he hummed in contentment.

“I get homesick for that tour bus sometimes,” she sighed. “I miss my little bunk.”

“Sorry to inform you we upgraded shortly after,” he replied, his fingers tucking a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear. “There is a back room in the new one, though. With a bed…”

“I’m sure your groupies are thrilled.”

“Someone’s snarky,” he chuckled.

She smiled at him, then leaned forward to steal a gentle kiss. He could still smell their shared arousal in the room, and his hand moved seemingly on its own to cup the back of her neck. That old familiar ache had already begun to form in his chest from the moment she first opened her door to him. It felt like something that had started to form inside of him had not fully faded in the five years they had spent apart.  _This is just sex…_  he reminded himself. Of course, that had been roughly the agreement back when they were on tour and he had already seen how well that ended.

But this time was different. She had a child. If she was looking for a relationship, she would want it with someone she could consider allowing to be a father figure for little Amilyn. And that was a role he could not even picture himself in. Not that he had minded the toddler. He was still wrapping his head around her very existence.

Still, he allowed that ache just for a moment to feel what it wanted to feel as he kissed the warm woman beside him. When their lips parted, her smile had gone and there was some sadness in her eyes he could not help noticing. With a deep breath, she sighed out, “God, I missed you,” then sharply leaned forward to kiss him again.

Caution be damned. He wrapped his arms around her, drew her up against his form, and allowed his legs to tangle with hers. He coaxed her lips apart, his tongue meeting with hers in a slow, sensual stroke. Her body sank as if it were melting in his embrace and he drank it in with a sigh of pure happiness.

Some hours later, he found himself lying in her bed alone while she showered, a familiar leather bound book in front of him. Amanda had pointed out her old diary in amusement, and feeling it was an invitation, he sifted through the pages until he came across her entries from the tour. A smile formed on his lips as certain entries brought back clear memories he had not thought about in a while. Her first tattoo, Mardi Gras, that one-lined entry she had left for him to read in his dressing room…

The water shut off in the bathroom and after some shuffling, Amanda emerged, wrapped in a towel while working out the knots in her hair. “I am pleased to announce I no longer smell like Antichrist spunk,” she declared, making him chuckle as he looked up at her.

“I should start a cologne line and use that for a name,” he remarked, smiling up at her. “Antichrist Spunk…”

“Cum to the Dark Side…” Amanda added, holding her hand in front of her to emphasis the potential slogan. “You may have something there.” Slipping out of her towel to hang it up, she fished out a clean shirt and pair of panties before joining him on the bed.

“Why didn’t you publish this?” he asked her, craning his head to look at her.

“You haven’t figured it out?” she asked. “Here, let me see…” Reaching over, she plucked the diary from his hands, then flipped forward a few pages until she found the entry she wanted. “Oh here we go,” she muttered to herself, scanning over a few lines before handing it back to him. “This was why.”

His curiosity was successfully captured and he skimmed over the entry once, then paused and read it again, giving it more time and thought.

_“I shouldn't be letting this happen. I shouldn't be letting myself feel this because I know it's just going to hurt. And I don't want to lose what he's given me._ __  
_  
_ _But god, I love him…”_

He stared at the words in front of him for several moments, unable to help remembering the emotions he had felt at the time. While he was not certain it had been love he was feeling then, it was certainly something. Dita had called him smitten and he had been unable to deny at least that. When he looked back up at Amanda, she was braiding her wet hair while her eyes seemed to fix on a spot on the wall.

“I don’t know if I was really in love,” she stated when she sensed his eyes on her. “It was more than likely infatuation. I was very emotional back then with everything going on, so it was hard for me to fully understand everything I was feeling.” She stood up, seeking out a hair tie on her dresser. “And after what happened the following night… I didn’t want to try to explain that part to anyone.”

“The following night?” he inquired, the answer hitting him before he finished his sentence. “Paul…”

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a grim tone. He noticed her shoulders slump and her head lower a bit, the reminder clearly still filling her with shame. He would be lying if he claimed he did not still feel a sting at the memory. That had been an ugly night, one he had never been eager to remember. Seeing that it still affected her did not make him any happier. “Still not proud of that,” she muttered, fiddling with the end of her braid even though she had already tied it off. “I swear I’m never doing anything like that again. I still feel disgusting when I think back on it.”

“You’re human,” he sighed with a frown. “You made a mistake.”

“A pretty big fucking mistake.” She turned to look at him, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back against her dresser. “I almost lost a good friend because I was being petty. I used someone else to do it who could have potentially lost his job because of it. I can’t reconcile that, no matter how many times I go over it in my head. Being emotionally hurt at the time just doesn’t feel like a good enough excuse.”

“Big mistake or not,” he cut in before she could defame herself any further. “You learned from it. You saw something inside yourself that needed to change and you didn’t ignore it. I’d say that counts for something.”

“Maybe,” she relented, pacing to the bed to sit beside him once more so that they were facing each other. “I’ll never forget that look on your face in the hall that night, though. That was by far the worst part.”

He remembered that too. Not the look on his face, but the look on hers. That was not a memory he enjoyed either.

“It’s in the past,” he said at last. “So look at it this way: You did not lose a friend, you made a promise to yourself not to do anything like that again, and now you’re a better person for it. Hanging on to it isn’t going to do you any favors.”

She smiled sadly at him and he rested his hand on her leg, giving it an affectionate rub. “I’m sorry we lost touch,” he sighed. “We obviously both had a lot going on in our lives… but I didn’t mean for us to almost disappear from them entirely.”

“Hey, I get some of that blame too,” she replied, resting her hand on top of his. “You would have been so good to have around when I was going through my pregnancy. You probably would have taken me to another fight club to help me get my mind off it.”

“Hell, I would have fought you myself,” he chuckled.

“I wanted to fight you that night,” she admitted with a mischievous smile. “If I hadn’t already had my ass handed to me, I would have taken you.”

“Now I wish that had played out just for the sexual thrill,” he teased, watching her roll her eyes.

“Well, if you’d rather fight than fuck… we do have what’s left of the weekend,” she offered with a waggle of her eyebrows, moving to her hands and knees and crawling over his lap. He grinned at her and rested his hands on her waist, bringing her to sit on his bare lap.

“Maybe we could fight and then fuck in the ambulance on the way to the hospital,” he purred, giving her lips a light brush with his own.

“Mmmm, now we’re talking,” she giggled, leaning in to kiss him fully.

The weekend passed all too quickly, the pair shamelessly spending most of it in Amanda’s bedroom. When it finally came time for him to leave, it was early Monday morning and the sun had barely begun to rise. Amanda remained in her oversized nightshirt as she followed him to the door. “I’d follow you to the airport,” she yawned, rubbing at her tired eyes. “But Craig will be dropping Amilyn off in about an hour.”

“That’s okay,” he murmured half-awake, setting his suitcase down so he could turn around and give her a proper goodbye. Without needing a second thought, he wrapped the groggy woman before him in a warm embrace and savored the feeling of her arms squeezing around him. “No more five fucking years,” he croaked, his voice still rough from waking up. “I’m keeping in touch with you, woman.”

“And he was never heard from again…” she teased, making him snort.

“I mean it. I’m staying in touch. Maybe I’ll even come out here for longer than a weekend sometime.”

“I’d love that,” Amanda sighed happily, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you so much for coming out here. I was so happy to have you.”

He turned his head to face her, lightly brushing her nose with his, then leaned down to kiss her mouth, his hands cupping her face as he did so. She ran her fingers through his hair, making him wonder for a moment if she would grab onto him and not let go. He wondered if he would even fight her.

When she finally broke the kiss, she gave him one more embrace, rubbing his back as she let out a sad breath. “Have a safe flight. Call me when you land.”

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured, stroking her cheek before finally willing himself to pull away. “Thanks for having me.” With that, he quietly took his leave, trying to ignore the aching in his chest as he made his way to the car waiting for him outside.


	4. Holiday Planning

“Thanks for coming with me,” Amanda sighed as she gently unzipped her squirming toddler’s bright pink coat. Amilyn was preoccupied, taking in all the unfamiliar sights of the pediatrician’s office while occasionally attempting to make a grab for any tools she could easily make into a playtoy.

Corinne took hold of her granddaughter’s hand before she could pull the otoscope from the wall and gave the little girl a funny face to help distract her from it. “Oh, I don’t mind it,” she sing-songed back, her tone serving for Amilyn’s benefit. “Your mommy was a two person job when it came to the doctor’s,” she told the child, receiving a bright smile in return.

“Only after I learned what a shot was,” Amanda chuckled, sliding off the little pink coat and hanging it on the wall. Craig usually accompanied Amanda to Amilyn’s physicals, knowing how she struggled comforting the toddler when it came time for any vaccinations. He was always very good at being a sturdy source of support for the both of them, and Amanda had come to greatly appreciate that.

Unfortunately, Craig had an appointment he could not break, leaving Amanda stuck with braving through the checkup alone or finding someone else to come with her. Watching Corinne entertain the toddler with ease reassured her she had made the right choice in bringing her mother along.

“Do you know what Craig’s meeting is about?” Corinne asked her, leaning forward as Amilyn grabbed hold and proceeded to inspect one of her necklaces.

“I know they’re discussing future deployment at some time, but I don’t know if that’s what it’s about,” Amanda answered.

“That’s gotta be hard. Especially now that he’s a parent,” her mother sighed remorsefully. “Has he said anything about how much longer he has with the military?”

“I still don’t know. And we haven’t had much of a chance to talk lately about anything. Work’s been so busy and I usually only see him when he’s dropping off or picking Amilyn up.”

“Maybe the two of you should take some time to do something together as a family? I’m sure Amilyn would love that.”

While the suggestion was harmless, Amanda knew where it was headed and she chose not to answer, changing the subject instead as she glanced at one of the charts on the wall. “Oh look, they list off all the yearly vaccines,” she pointed out. Corinne said nothing, though her frown said enough. Thankfully she let the subject drop as she proceeded to play a clapping game with Amilyn until the pediatrician showed up.

An hour later, as the three of them made their way across the parking garage, Amanda gave Amilyn her third kiss on her tear-stained cheek while whispering reassurances to her of how brave she had been. “You got a pretty princess bandaid, didn’t you?” she cooed, making the toddler nod as she gave a big sniffle.

“I hate shots,” she whimpered and Amanda kissed her cheek again.

“I know, baby. But you did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“You both did good,” Corinne spoke up, giving her daughter a warm smile. Amanda took the compliment, returning her mother’s smile, and led the way to the car. “I know how you feel, sweetie,” her mother continued as she opened the back door for her. “I used to hate taking you in for your shots and hearing you cry and cry. It’s so hard when they don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Thanks for coming with me,” Amanda replied, strapping the little girl into her car seat. “I know I need to be the grownup and power through, but I still hate it. I know that’s pathetic.”

“There’s no shame in asking for help sometimes,” Corinne replied, moving to the passenger seat. “And I’m always glad to see my little bug,” she added, flashing a grin which Amilyn returned behind the thumb she was sucking on. She climbed into the car one Amanda was making her way to the driver’s side, and after they were both strapped in, she reached over to place a hand on her daughter’s thigh, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing a great job. You’re a good mom.”

Amanda glanced sidelong at her mom, then gave her an appreciative nod. “Thanks, Mom.”

After they pulled out, Amanda drove to the nearest McDonalds with a play place, knowing Amilyn could use the reward. She ordered the toddler’s favorite meal with extra apple slices, then sat down at a table with her mother, helping arrange Amilyn’s food before digging into her own meal.

“Now… I’m not trying to be a nag…” Corinne began. It took every ounce of Amanda’s strength to suppress a cringe. Nothing good ever followed that line. “But now that Craig’s talking about possible deployment, have the two of you had an honest conversation about your future family structure?”

She had managed to dodge the topic in the pediatrician’s office. There was no dodging it now. Her mother had her pinned at a booth.

“Like I said,” she answered at length. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk about much of anything. And I honestly don’t think we’ll discuss anything like that until we actually know what’s going to happen.”

“This may not be a topic you want to wait on,” Corinne gently insisted. “If he gets deployed, you don’t know what could happen. And the two of you work your best as parents when you’re together. You think Amilyn doesn’t sense that?”

Amanda cocked an eyebrow. “She’s four, Mom. She’s completely oblivious to the social construct of the nuclear family.” Corinna gave her a disappointed look but Amanda stood her ground as politely as she could. “Craig and I don’t love each other. We love Amilyn, but we don’t feel that way about each other. And Amilyn doesn’t care that Mommy and Daddy aren’t together. She doesn’t even understand traditional concepts at all. She’s just a kid and all she knows is she has a mommy and a daddy who love her. Isn’t that more important?”

“Children can still sense these things,” Corinne pressed.

“It’s not like we were married and then we got divorced,” Amanda sighed. “We’ve never been together as a couple since the day she was born. It’s not like we’re dropping a bombshell on her by never getting married.”

“Never…” her mother repeated as if her daughter had just said something damning.

“Mom,” she spoke up, sitting a little more upright in her seat. “I know you have your opinions on what’s ideal, but Craig and I are doing what we believe is best for our child. I’m not asking you to agree with it because I know you won’t. But please respect it.”

“And what about what God thinks is right for you?”

And there it was. Amanda knew it was only a matter of time.

“We’re not having this conversation,” she stated simply, in no mood to get into what would probably have been the 50th round of that argument that refused to die.

Though Corinne relented on the religious argument, she still made one more attempt, using a different angle which Amanda already saw coming. “What if Craig wants more? Does his opinion not matter either?”

“Craig doesn’t want more,” Amanda replied.

“But he might one day.”

“On the off chance of that ever happening, it wouldn’t change the fact that I don’t love him.”

“But you could learn to-”

“Don’t you even,” Amanda snorted, shaking her head as she sat back in her seat. “I am not forcing myself into a relationship with someone I don’t love just so you and Dad can stop living with the embarrassment of having a daughter who is raising a child out of wedlock.”

Corinne’s lips pursed and while Amanda felt a stab of guilt for having to go on the defensive, she saw no other way to make the topic die than to be blunt. “I love you, Mom,” she continued in a soft voice. “And I appreciate what you think you’re trying to do. But the truth is I have nothing to be ashamed of and I have nothing to feel guilty about. Our family may not match with your traditional views, but that doesn’t make it any less good.”

After Amilyn had played herself out in the plastic tunnels, Amanda drove Corinne home, trying not to let the persistent silence get to her. As they pulled into the driveway, she glanced back to see Amilyn out cold in her car seat, then climbed out to see her mother to the door.

Before Corinne could put her key in the lock, Amanda wrapped her arms around her suddenly in a tight embrace, and her mother cautiously returned the hug. “I know I’m not what you hoped I would be,” Amanda whispered in a pained tone. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Oh honey,” Corinne sighed, hugging her daughter back tightly. When the embrace broke, she rested a hand on Amanda’s cheek and gave her a sad smile. “We are not embarrassed about you or Amilyn. Your father and I love you both so much. You are a good mom, sweetie.” Amanda smiled back at her mother and gave a slow nod. “We just want what’s best for the both of you. And God wants what’s best too. He gave a clear design for a family unit for a reason.”

“Okay, Mom,” Amanda whispered, taking a step back. “Thanks for coming with us again. I’ll give you a call later.”

When she arrived home, Amilyn was still sound asleep in her car seat. Taking great care not to wake her, Amanda carried her into the apartment and placed her down on the sofa before heading into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Just as she was pressing the power button, her phone began to ring and she answered it quickly before the tone could wake up her daughter.

“Hey, Craig, what’s up?”

“I just got out,” he answered, his breathing labored as if he were rushing. “Sorry again that I couldn’t make it. How did it go?”

“She’s doing good,” Amanda replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Doctor said she’s a little on the short side but that’s nothing to worry about. And she had to get three shots today so she’s going to be a little groggy. I’ve already got her taking a nap.”

“Did you end up bringing your mom?”

“Yeah…” Amanda let her voice trail off enough to hint at how well that went.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” he apologized with a hint of amusement.

“It’s not like there was anything you could have done about it. Anyways, we’re home now and doing good.”

“Good. Listen, I was calling to find out if you want to do Christmas at my house again this year? Figured we can have a dinner and do presents and all that.”

“I was actually about to ask you what the plan was,” Amanda chuckled. “I’m guessing your parents are gonna be there too?”

“Sounds like it. And there’s more space at my place for both our families so I figured you’d prefer that?”

“Definitely. It’d be a pain in the ass to cram everyone in my apartment. Besides, with that little space, I don’t think we’re going to be able to avoid bloodshed when my parents start their annual, ‘Why aren’t you two married yet?’ tirade.” She could hear Craig chuckle on the other end and it made her smile. “My mom’s already got a jump on it.”

“Of course she does,” he sighed. “Well, I’ll make sure to hide a box of wine somewhere to keep us festive.” He paused for a while, clearing his throat awkwardly, then continued with a question that made her raise an eyebrow. “Anyways… I was thinking of having a friend of mine join us this year… but I wanted to know how you felt about that?”

She could not help the smirk that formed on her lips. “And by friend you mean not a friend?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t have a problem with that. Were you expecting me to?”

“No, not you… but I know how your parents have been pushing you about us, and I was worried you might want to avoid that drama.”

“Oh they can stuff it,” she huffed. “Bring a date!” A thought occurred to her and she shifted in her seat, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Whoever she is… she does know about Amilyn, right?”

“Of course!”

“Okay good. Just wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be part of some bombshell being dropped.”

“No, no. It’s all good, I promise.”

“Well, then that’s all I care about.” From the couch, she could hear Amilyn stir and she turned her head, watching a pair of groggy blue eyes reluctantly open to look at her. “Someone’s awake,” Amanda informed him, her tone growing higher as she smiled at the little girl.

“I should probably let you go then,” Craig replied warmly. “Give her a big hug for me. I’ll be by to pick her up Friday morning. And you should come over on Christmas Eve. I’m doing dinner with a couple friends, no family, aside from Amilyn of course. Figured it’d give some of us a chance to actually enjoy some of the holiday before our families get involved.”

Amanda laughed at the statement and nodded her head. “Done,” she replied. “I’ll be there.”

Christmas at Craig’s had been something of a tradition ever since Amilyn was born. While Amanda had her cozy apartment, Craig had his own house, courtesy of his parents helping him get a mortgage in the first place. It was not a particularly large house, but certainly contained more space for a full family gathering. There had been a time when Craig had offered to try to help Amanda get a house for herself, but she had declined, knowing full well what the military paid him and feeling he was already paying more than enough in child support alone.

She arrived early in the evening, having sent Craig a text to let him know she was on her way with dessert and extra booze. Part of her suspected that she would be meeting the mystery woman tonight, not that it made her worried. If anything, she was a little jealous when she considered her position as a seemingly confirmed bachelorette. But she would do her best to be happy for him. She knew he had been on about as many dates as she had since Amilyn came along. In other words, almost none.

As she pulled into the driveway, she took note of the unfamiliar car parked next to Craig’s. There was an army bumper sticker as well as a POW ribbon magnet on display. Possibly a friend he had served with, or maybe the mystery woman was in the military with him herself? She had to admit, the possibility was rather romantic. Lucky bastard.

She pulled out her canvas shopping tote, armed with four bottles of wine as well as vodka (just in case), and the large tupperware container with fresh baked monkey bread. The smell had been driving her wild the entire drive out and she doubted any of them would be able to wait until after dinner before breaking into it. Thankfully she had whipped up a large batch so there would be plenty to last them the night.

When she reached the door, she could already hear footsteps coming to open it, having clearly seen her pull in and approach with her arms full. Craig was there to greet her with a wide smile, holding the screen door open for her while the front door was able to stay open on its own. “Christ, that smells good,” he groaned as she shuffled past him.

“You’re telling me,” Amanda sighed. “I almost ate it on the way here.”

“Go ahead and set it in the kitchen. Everyone else is in the living room.”

He left her to put her things away, and Amanda breathed in deep the smell of homemade lasagna and garlic knots. There would be plenty of turkey with the usual fixings to be had tomorrow, but tonight, she was glad for something different.

“I hear Mommy!” Amilyn’s voice cried from the living room, and she turned just as the trampling of little feet came up from behind her. The little girl was dressed up in a green sweater with Rudolf’s head in the center, its nose lighting up, and a set of reindeer antlers on her head.

“Look at you!” Amanda cried, scooping her up and giving her a big kiss. “Oh, you look so pretty!”

“I am so pretty!” Amilyn replied, making her mother laugh.

“And humble too. You think Santa’s going to come here tonight?”

“Yes he is! We got a tree!”

Amanda giggled, giving the toddler a bounce before setting her down, and she took her hand to lead her back into the living room where the others were waiting. As she rounded the corner, she spotted Craig on the sofa, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands, and sitting across from him in the recliner was another man who rose to his feet to greet her like a trained gentleman.

“You must be Amanda,” he said, extending his hand to her. “Name’s Manny!”

“Hey, Manny,” Amanda greeted, shaking his hand and taking him in. He had a similar build to Craig, standing a bit shorter but his body just as sturdy and muscular. His skin was slightly tan and he donned a dark beard that framed his face quite well. Spotting his dog tags, Amanda was positive he was a military buddy.

Before she could ask anything, she noticed the grin on Craig’s face and the way his eyes were staring just over her shoulder. Almost as if something was about to pounce on her. Immediately becoming suspicious, Amanda’s eyes narrowed at him.

“What? What is it?” she questioned.

Her answer came in the form of a tap on her shoulder. Having not heard or sensed anyone actually standing behind her, the sudden sensation made her jump, and she whipped around to come face to face with a set of mismatched eyes. Amadna’s jaw dropped and she let out a pleased cry as she launched herself into the singer’s arms.

“Oh my god!” she squealed in excitement. “I can’t believe it!”

With a warm smile, Manson wrapped his arms tightly around her and gave her a deep chuckle that rumbled through his entire chest. “Good to see you too,” he purred.


	5. Christmas Eve

"How long do I get you for this time?"

Manson smiled to himself as he watched the snowflakes drift their way down from the evening sky. He loved the way she worded that. It made him feel as if she saw him as a special treat that only came around once in a blue moon. Granted the couple months they had been apart was a far cry from their previous five year gap, but that did not stop him from missing the days when he could simply see her every day.

They were standing together on the front porch of Craig's home, cradling mugs of hot cocoa in their hands while a lit cigarette smoldered away in his other hand. The air was chilly but not unbearably so. In fact, it was very peaceful. Much like Amanda, Craig had managed to find himself a place on the outskirts of the city, allowing more space for himself without having to live in the middle of nowhere. "Are you staying through Christmas?" she asked when he did not immediately answer her first question.

"I've been invited to," he replied, taking a drag from his cigarette. "If that's all right for you?"

"Fuck yes it is!" she exclaimed with a grin.

"Because your parents..."

"I don't care about them. They can suck it," she responded with a dismissive wave. "God, I owe Craig a huge thanks. Can't believe he really lifted your number from my phone."

"Yeah. Get a lock on that, by the way," he chuckled.

"I don't have your actual name listed in there. I just have it marked 'BHW'. You'd only find it if you were really looking for it."

"That's nice. Get a lock on it," he repeated making her laugh and nod in agreement. "Actually, I have even more fun news."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"The rest of the band and I are all throwing a New Years Eve party in NYC. Not a huge affair, but something fun. And... I'm hoping it's at least close enough you'll be able to join us?"

Her eyes widened at his offer, but already he could see the gears turning in her head, trying to determine the logistics of it. "I'd have to get some shifts covered... but it is a weekend so Craig will already have Amilyn with him. I'd just have to figure out how I'm set for gas. That's at least a six hour drive from here."

"I could drive you there and back," he offered. "If you let me stay the week that is." Her smile brightened and he snuffed out what was left of his cigarette, tossing it into the snow before turning to face her. "Though you'll probably be sick of my old ass by then..." he teased.

"I think I can put up with you," she murmured, taking a deep drink from her hot cocoa. "Hope you don't mind that I'll still have work though."

"You're gonna make me babysit then, aren't you," he asked, watching her amused smile.

"Amilyn has daycare. I'm just letting you know you'll be on your own some of the time because I won't be able to get off work."

"That's fine with me, I can handle that." He smiled warmly at her and took a step closer, letting his arm brush up against hers as they both of them leaned against the handrail. "You know I hate Christmas."

"Careful how loudly you say that. Next thing you know, you'll have three obnoxious ghosts trying to change your tune rather than letting you sleep."

"I actually think that may have happened once... But I was probably high." They laughed together and he reached over to rest a hand on her shoulder. "But I mean it, I hate Christmas. And getting to spend it with you, makes it less horrible."

She let out a gentle hum, her breath creating a light cloud of fog in the cold air. Stepping away from the edge, she moved in front of him and wrapped an arm over his shoulders, pulling him into a hug as her other hand clutched her hot drink. "I hope you have a good one this year, then."

When they returned inside, Craig and Manny had already begun to dig into the food, so they filled their own plates, opting to gather in the living room rather than at the dining table. Amilyn was set up with her own little plate at the coffee table, and Amanda sat on the floor near her, ready with a pile of napkins for the inevitable messes she knew the child would make. Manson sat on the couch behind her, enjoying the way she rested her back against his legs while Craig and Manny sat together on a nearby loveseat.

"So, I've been meaning to ask," Craig spoke up between mouthfuls. "Did you guys really participate in a fight club, or did Amanda make that up?"

"Oh it happened," Manson confirmed while Amanda giggled with her mouthful.

"No..." Manny gasped with a laugh. "You mean those are real things? I thought that was just a movie."

"Nope," Amanda responded. "They're real. And I got beat bad."

"She pulled his hair," Manson snickered, making the other men in the room laugh.

"He busted my lip. He got off easy."

"Jeez, that's insane," Manny stated in amusement. "Sounds like it would be a lot of fun though."

"It was! I mean, the next morning I felt like crap. I'm pretty sure we both did. But yeah, it was fun."

"We had to go to different hospitals," Manson added. "Because it looked like we had beat the crap out of each other, and after her parents had already made the media aware that she had just up and disappeared on them, having her reappear all bruised up with me would have looked bad." Craig and Manny let out a raucous laugh at the thought and Amanda shook her head with a grin.

"Craig, my parents don't know about that, by the way so..."

"Got it," he replied in understanding. "I'll add it to the list."

"List?" Manson inquired, looking between the two of them.

"There's a list of things we just don't tell them," Amanda explained. "Purely for the sake of avoiding drama. My mom would definitely use that as something against you."

"I could take your mom," the singer joked, but Amanda gave him a serious look.

"No, really. Don't bring it up. After I got back, she pulled up a bunch of your lyrics and interviews, deliberately looking for anything that sounded threatening, and tried to convince me that I'd put myself in real danger by being around you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Remember that interview where you described wanting to smash one of your exes' skulls open with a sledgehammer?"

His smile faded. He knew exactly the one she was talking about and it had come back to bite him more than once. "Are you sure you want me around them tomorrow?"

"I'm sure I want you around," she replied with a warm smile, trying to reassure him.

"Might make them leave faster," Craig added with a smirk.

"See?" Amanda chuckled.

"You don't like her parents either?" Manny asked, looking between Amanda and Craig.

Craig shook his head, reclining back on the loveseat in a more casual manner. "It's not that I don't like them. They're good people. Just... really have their priorities screwed up."

"They've been trying to guilt us into getting married ever since Amilyn was born," Amanda said, giving her daughter a rub on her back.

"Yeah, brace yourself," Craig continued, turning to Manny. "There'll probably be a few rounds of that tomorrow."

"Manny's joining us?" Amanda asked curiously. "Good. It'll be an extra buffer against my parents."

"And mine," Craig added. "Tomorrow's going to be... interesting."

Amanda cocked an eyebrow at him. "What do you have to worry about? They're not pushing us like my parents are. They've been the understanding ones."

"Yeah well... tomorrow might be different," he replied. When it became clear he was not going to elaborate, Amanda returned her focus to making sure Amilyn's food was actually making it into her mouth.

As dinner began to wind down and the four adults had settled into conversation, Amanda took notice of the time and offered to put Amilyn to bed so that Craig could remain where he was and enjoy himself. Manson watched her hoist the sleepy toddler onto her hip, making her say goodnight to everyone in the room before taking her upstairs.

When she returned, she headed into the kitchen to fetch the wine she had brought with her, and Craig rose from the loveseat to join her. Manson remained where he was, sensing there was something Craig wanted to talk to her about in private. "Might as well see what's on TV," Manny stated with a shrug, grabbing the remote.

"Hopefully foxy boxing," Manson replied, and the man chuckled as he flipped through the channels.

"Where do you keep your wine glasses?" Amanda asked Craig as he entered the kitchen.

"Here, I'll get them." He shuffled past her to a cabinet she would have not been able to reach on her own and pulled out four glasses, inspecting them to make sure they were really clean. "Can you hang out for a second," he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. "There's something I need to tell you."

Amanda gave him a wary look, but nodded and set the bottles back down on the kitchen counter. "What's up?"

For the first time since she first told him she was pregnant, Craig genuinely looked nervous. Possibly even more so than he had back then. "You were asking about my parents..." His voice wandered off and she felt her anxiety begin to tingle.

"Oh God, they're not going the same route as my parents, are they?"

"No. It's nothing to do with you exactly but... I'm... going to be dropping a bit of a bombshell on them."

Trying to lighten the mood a bit, Amanda asked, "What, did you get someone else pregnant?"

"Heh... no. That'd actually be impossible." He chewed at his lip for a moment, then cleared his throat. "It's about my date tomorrow."

"I was going to ask about that," Amanda interrupted. "I thought I'd be meeting her tonight."

Craig hesitated, shifting his weight from one leg to another, then looked her dead in the eye. "You already met him," he answered.

Amanda's eyebrows raised as the light flipped on in her mind, and she gestured to the living room to make sure she was understanding him correctly. "Manny?" she whispered, trying to avoid drawing the attention of the pair in the next room, and Craig nodded. "Oh..." she replied, leaning back on the counter. "I didn't even know you were bi."

"Actually... I'm not. I'm gay."

Her brow furrowed. "But we..."

"I know."

"So then... why?"

He shrugged his shoulders, looking away from her as if he were embarrassed. "I was scared. My parents may not be as conservative as yours, but there are some things they have a firm opinion about. Hell, my dad was relieved when he found out I'd knocked you up."

Amanda felt her heart ache for him and she frowned, lowering her eyes as she processed what he was telling her. "So they have no idea?"

"They had their suspicions in the past. But then Amilyn happened and they kind of gripped that with blind hope." Realizing what his words might be implying, he looked up at her suddenly and held up a hand. "To be clear, when I slept with you, I was not setting out to get you pregnant. I was just as blindsided by that as you were."

"I know you were," she replied with a sad smile.

"And... I don't want to say I used you... but I guess I did. After serving with Manny and I knew I had feelings for him, I panicked. It was one thing to have that desire growing up, but he was the first I actually started to fall for. And then you picked me up at the airport and I got along with you so quickly that I thought I'd try it and see if it was just that I hadn't found the right girl to connect with."

"Wait, was I your first?" Amanda gasped in shock.

"...yeah."

"Holy..." So much suddenly made sense, but she knew better than to admit that out loud.

"After that... I just knew. I couldn't deny it anymore. I'm sorry I had to use you to prove it to myself though. I don't regret what we got out of it, but I've always felt like such a dick."

"So... tomorrow you're coming out?" she asked him, feeling herself grow nervous for him. He nodded quietly, chewing so hard on his bottom lip she was afraid he would bite right through it. "Okay. So tomorrow you're coming out of the closet to your folks, and I get to blindside mine with Marilyn Manson..." They stared at each other for an awkward moment, then at once the reality of her words set in and the tension broke, causing them to erupt with laughter.

"Do I know how to host Christmas or what?" he choked, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Amanda wheezed as she held her sides, then approached him once she managed to contain herself and wrapped her arms around him.

"I've got your back, soldier," she told him, feeling him squeeze her back. "No matter what happens tomorrow, you've got my support. I know a thing or two about being the family disappointment."

He sighed softly and patted her back. "Thanks. I'm gonna need all the backup I can get."


	6. Absinthe and Admissions

As they made their way to her car, having said good night to Craig and Manny, Amanda’s phone went off in her pocket and she drew it out, a smile forming on her face when she saw the name on the screen. Manson watched as she opened the text, reading it silently for a moment, then looking to him inquiringly. “I know it’s kinda late, but would you be up for grabbing a drink?”

“Is there any place open?” he asked, knowing it was almost past midnight.

“Technically, they’re not open. But the owner just gave me an invite to come blow off steam with her.” She unlocked her car and popped open the trunk for him to place his suitcase inside.

“Is it a restaurant?” he asked her while shoving his bag inside.

“It’s an Irish pub in town. My friend, Renee, owns it and she invites me over sometimes when she needs a drinking buddy. If you’re interested.”

The trunk closed with a satisfying ‘thunk!’ and he gave an impartial shrug. “I could go for a drink.”

Amanda began to type out a response when she paused and looked up at him. “I should mention, she is a fan. Will you mind?” It was an odd question to ask, but perhaps she was considering that he may not always be willing to deal with a starstruck fan.

“She’s got alcohol. That’s good enough for me,” he replied. Amanda finished her text and climbed into the car, Manson following quickly behind her.

The pub was located on a corner in the center of town. When she first pulled in, he noted that the lights were off and wondered if her friend was really inside. She led him around to the back door and gave it a firm knock. Within moments he could hear the sound of footfalls on wooden flooring, and soon the door was pulled open to them, revealing a short and thin young woman with bright red curly hair. Her face lit up when she saw Amanda, and the two women embraced, wishing each other a Blessed Yule. When Amanda stepped back to introduce him, the woman’s eyes went wider than he thought humanly possible, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as she gave a squeal.

“Jesus Christ! It’s him!” she cried, bouncing on her toes. “Oh my god, you should have told me he was coming with you! Can I hug him?”

“You can ask him,” Amanda laughed, amused at how her friend had yet to muster the ability to address Manson directly.

He did not wait for her to repeat her question. She was too adorable. Manson crossed the threshold into the small pub, and wrapped the thin woman in a warm hug, cracking up when he realized she was shaking with excitement.

“Told you she was a fan,” Amanda said as she shuffled past them, closing the door and shedding off her coat.

“I am!” the other woman admitted, still not letting go. “Oh, I am!” After a little prodding from the singer, she released him and took a step back, her cheeks redder than her hair as she tented her hands in front of her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I know I’m being one of those people… I just… this is so exciting!” She cleared her throat after a moment and extended a hand to him. “I’m Renee.”

“Renee,” he repeated with a smile, shaking her hand. “What’ve you got to drink?”

“Already pouring you an absinthe!” Amanda called from behind the counter, having taken the liberty of letting herself behind the bar.

“The woman knows me,” he chuckled, allowing Renee to lead the way inside. The house lights were off but there were strands of green shamrock lights in the windows, giving off just the right amount of lighting so they could at least see their way around. Manson hopped up onto a bar stool before pulling off his coat, and Amanda passed the glass to him while Renee set to work, filling two pint glasses with Guinness.

“I assume you want your usual?” she asked Amanda when the glass in her hand was already half full.

“The woman knows me,” Amanda stated at Manson, causing Renee to grin pridefully. “Where’s Angus? Did you bring him?”

“Oh he was laying down in the game room,” Renee answered, pointing back to the room they had walked through. “He’s being a lazy dork right now but he should still be in there.”

“I must have missed him. Angus!” she called, disappearing back into the dark room.

“Angus?” Manson asked, taking a sip of his absinthe before giving the glass a nod of approval.

“My dog,” Renee answered. “He’s kind of a trademark here.”

Before anyone could say another word, he heard the click-clacking of nails on the floor, accompanied with a heavy thudding sound. He twisted around in his seat, just in time for what almost appeared to be a slightly smaller than average bear burrow its nose into his crotch, nearly knocking him off the stool. “Holy shit!” he cried, quickly setting his drink down before it could spill. The dog’s head raised so he could observe the singer for a moment, then he went about sniffing Manson’s legs and hands, trying to decide if he liked him.

Amanda was laughing as she returned, dropping on her knees beside the dog to lovingly scratch it behind the ears. “This is Angus!” she announced, though it was hardly necessary.

“Is that a dog or a horse?” Manson asked, looking back to Renee. “Jesus, you could ride that thing if you wanted to.” The more he compared the small and thin frame of the bar owner with the large frame of the dog, who very likely had a head that could reach well above Manson’s waist while still on all fours, the more he doubted his assumption was that far from the truth.

Renee gave a chuckle, setting the full glass up on the bar while beginning to fill a second one for herself. “Angus is a bullmastiff. He’s a big boy.”

“He’s a baby,” Amanda cooed, recieving a sloppy kiss across her face.

“She doesn’t let me do that when we’re together,” Manson joked, making Renee laugh.

“Okay, get up here and drink your beer,” the redhead called, signalling Amanda to stand up. Agnus took to wandering between the two of them as they sat on the bar stools, sniffing the both of them while clearly pursuing its endless quest for food. “So, your folks are actually allowing him to spend the holidays with all of you?” Renee asked as she sipped on her beer.

“Oh god, wait ‘til you hear about this…” Amanda said before launching into the full story of what was to come, keeping it abridged as much as she could.

“Craig is gay?!” Renee gasped. “Did you have any idea?”

“None,” Amanda answered, shaking her head. “I mean, it’s not like we ever dated and I’ve never pried into his love life… mostly because as far as I knew he didn’t have one. All we had was the one night stand. And… well, raising a child together. But no, I had no clue. And he’s really scared about tomorrow. I’m kinda scared for him too.”

“Does he really have to do it tomorrow?”

To be fair, Manson had been wondering the same thing.

“I don’t know why he chose tomorrow,” Amanda sighed with a shrug. “It’s very important to him. Maybe he wanted the ability to openly be with his boyfriend to be his Christmas present. I don’t know.” She took a deep drink from her beer before shrugging again at whatever thought was in her head. “To be honest… I’m looking forward to my parents finally giving up their mission to get us to tie the knot.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that will be a relief,” Renee agreed. She turned her eyes to Manson and offered a smirk. “And lucky you, you get to be in the middle of it.”

“I already hate Christmas,” he replied, draining his glass. “It’s not like they’re ruining something special to me.” Without even needing to ask, Renee was already refilling his glass, which was enough to make him decide he liked her.

“Hopefully with Amilyn there, everyone will behave themselves,” Renee continued, handing him his absinthe and starting up another pint for Amanda.

“Phsh!” Amanda waved her off. “You overestimate my folks.”

Renee handed her the second beer and placed her emptied glass in the sink. “So what about you two now? Are you guys dating?” She seemed a little too excited about the prospect, but Amanda shook her head.

“Just fooling around,” she replied.

“Friends with benefits with Marilyn Manson… some girls have all the luck,” Renee sighed, winking at the singer. For once, he had nothing to say in response, focusing on his drink instead and hoping nothing in his expression had given him away. That old familiar ache had started to rise again and he was determined to drown it. At least she had once again voiced where she stood on the matter. Unlike years ago when she refused to say anything at all and they both managed to hurt each other. But the more he drank, the more he could feel the absinthe weaken his resolve. Thankfully, Amanda changed the topic soon enough.

“Speaking of dating, what the hell happened with Jason? You guys were doing so well together!” she asked Renee. Manson barely paid attention as the two women commiserated over relationship woes. By the time he was finished with his glass, the topic had wound down and Amanda was looking at the clock on the wall. “Well, we have to be up early tomorrow so we’d better head off.”

“Call me tomorrow and tell me how it went,” Renee said as she came around the bar, giving Amanda a goodbye hug.

“I promise you’ll hear all about it,” Amanda replied. Manson gave Renee a hug as well, thanking her for the drinks, and together they made their way back out into the snow. The drive home was quiet as he tried to let his mind slip into the murky abyss of mild intoxication. The snowflakes pelting the windshield were almost hypnotic and he let his head rest against the back of the seat, his body slowly relaxing in response. By the time they pulled into her parking lot, he was almost asleep and had to shake himself awake before stepping out into the frigid air. Amanda already had his bag in her hand and he followed her up to her apartment.

“You okay?” she asked him as she shed off her coat.

“Hmmm? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, kicking the snow off his boots while working off his own coat.

“I don’t know… you got kinda quiet after Renee asked about us.”

Fuck. She had noticed.

“Kinda hard to talk and drink at the same time,” he answered in an attempt to brush off her observation. When he saw the way she looked at him, clearly not falling for it, he shrugged as he hung up his coat. “I’m fine, Amanda.”

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?” That was a reasonable question but that did not stop him from feeling a hint of annoyance. Still, he bit his tongue and moved to the couch where he could sit down and unlace his boots. From the entryway, Amanda rested her hands on her hips as she watched him, clearly not intending to let the topic die. “If I answered her wrong…”

“How would your answer have been wrong?” he asked, a bit of an edge leaking into his tone as he gave up on his laces to look up at her. She had his head working too fast for him to properly address her and his boots at the same time.

“I mean, did you not want her to know we’re sleeping together?” Amanda pressed, the question nearly making him laugh.

“Why would I give a fuck about that?”

She kicked off her shoes and took a step closer, folding her arms over her chest. “So then, what was it?”

“I already said nothing is wrong. I don’t know what you want me to say, Amanda,” he sighed, his irritation becoming clearer.

Her lips pursed and her eyes saddened, but she lowered her gaze, seeming to admit defeat. “Kay…” she muttered, bending down to pick up her shoes and put them away. Manson closed his eyes, letting his head drop, and he let out a huff, knowing deep down he was going to regret this.

“I still have feelings for you.”

Amanda froze, turning to look at him as if trying to determine whether or not she had heard him correctly. His anxiety rose for a moment, anticipating immediate rejection, even from a woman he knew had been in love with him once before. But her expression remained soft and rather than prodding him with more questions, she waited silently for him to continue.

_Don’t be a pussy._

He struggled to keep eye contact, but he managed to keep talking. “You know I had feelings for you back when I brought you on tour with me. And I never stopped thinking about it. Even after I was pretty sure you’d forgotten about me. Or at the very least moved on.”

Her eyes widened a bit as if she found the notion that she could ever forget about him completely ridiculous. Perhaps it was, but his insecurities would never let him push the idea from the realm of possibility.

“I thought that… when I saw you again, enough time would have passed that those feelings were finally gone. But actually being around you makes me realize they’re not. Not by a fucking long shot.” He laughed at himself, unable to look back up at her again. “I have no expectations. I never did, not even when I came out here a few months ago. I was honestly expecting not to feel this way anymore. And besides, you’ve got a kid now and things in your life that you’ve gotta put first. I just… when your friend brought it up… it just brought me down a little because I can’t help what I feel.”

He kept his eyes focused on the carpet, remaining silent while hoping whatever Amanda had to say in response would not be any worse of a blow than he was already expecting. He waited patiently, but the silence did not take long to get to him. Maybe the absinthe was making the passing of time feel off. He was not sure.

She said nothing, but he heard her slowly walk up to him, only to come to a stop just in front of him. He knew he should look her in the eye already, but he still could not find the ability to do it. Instead, she lowered herself to her knees, sitting back on her heels, then she took hold of one of his boots and gently guided his foot into her lap. He opened his mouth to object, knowing the melted snow would only soak through her jeans, but she was not looking at him either. Her fingers were busy working off the laces with care, and she very gently pulled it from his foot once it was loose enough. Reaching for the other, she pulled it into her lap and did the same thing, not saying a word or looking up at him until she had removed them both and set them aside to dry.

She returned to him, this time taking a seat beside him, and she looked to him, resting her hand in his lap. “Marilyn…” she spoke in a soft voice. “I… I don’t know how I really feel right now. And I don’t mean that I don’t feel anything. I definitely do.” Her hand left his thigh to grab for his hand instead, giving it a tight squeeze. “You mean more to me than I can ever say. You’re one of the most important people in my life. Really, you are.” He could feel her eyes on him, but the most he could do was look at the way her hand clutched his.

“Tomorrow’s going to be insane,” she continued. “There’s just too much going on between Craig and dealing with all our parents at once… and right now I need to focus on being there for him and Amilyn.”

He nodded in agreement, unable to help feeling guilty that he had chosen now to bring this up. His timing was poor at best. She had enough to be stressed about.

“After tomorrow… if you still plan to stay with me… and take me to NYC with you… can we talk about this? Really talk about this? Is that fair?” Her tone was apologetic and when he finally looked into her eyes, he could see a sadness welling up in them, already growing overwhelmed by everything that was happening in her life at once. She also seemed afraid, though of what he was not sure.

“That’s completely reasonable,” he whispered. She looked immediately relieved and it startled him to realize she may have actually been afraid that she was about to lose him. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up right now. You’ve got enough shit going on.”

“First of all, I brought it up,” she corrected him, cocking an eyebrow. “Second, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t really want to know. So don’t apologize.” She leaned over, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “We’d better hit the sack. I want to get there tomorrow before Amilyn gets up. I want to see her face when she sees the presents under the tree.”

“I got her something,” he said with a grin, standing up and extending a hand to her.

“You didn’t have to do that!” she gasped, taking his hand and walking with him to her bedroom.

“A drum kit.” His grin became mischievous and she playfully smacked his arm.

“I swear to god if you did…”


End file.
